CLOSE OF VOTING NOTIFICATION
So between this next update being a big one; me getting better from covid (yay!) and thus having to go back to work (boo!); and family reunion stuff this weekend, I'm gonna have to set a fixed cut off time for votes.
The votes will be tallied and the results posted in approximately 26 and a half hours, and then I should have the next update written and posted a couple of hours after that (possibly more if it needs extra work).
Sorry about the long wait in comparison to past updates.
Aw no worries, mate, it ain't easy getting updates out quickly, especially when you've got work and family issues on top. Most of your voters will be here when you get back, even if it takes a day or two. I still wait for the day Res Publica comes back to life, after all.
The results have been counted and VOTING IS NOW CLOSED.
Thank you for the kind words, thankfully things are okay - just busy haha.
[9] ...you grit your teeth and let Oz access your pain.
[5] "...and discovered these... purple chains, glowing with light, reaching out of the ground and up into the sky."
[4] ...her flame burns the brightest (MEDIUM-WEIGHT)
You grit your teeth as the nausea wriggling its way up your right side digs in a little deeper, twisting into a spark of fear... but as much as it wants to grip you, you and Oz are one and the same.
The pact you made as children is as strong - must be stronger - than the tallest mountain. Your very souls depend on it, and in that recognition the fear leaves you. You close your eyes.
Of course, Oz. I can take it-
Regret hits you on an emotional level, but it almost immediately flickers away when it flies head first into the unbreakable fortress of pain that screams up your right side. You keel forward and hit the ground, your fingers only failing to bleed from clawing into the dirt because of your riding gloves.
A firm arm gently loops into your left, and on some level your conscious mind knows that Marr must be reeling from the sound of your screaming so close to him.
"It's okay Rell, let it out, we're not going anywhere."
You want to cry, but the pain is too sharp and... convoluted, to express in that way. Nausea sweeps up and fills your chest, as your heart thunders with a sickening dread.
Something is in your guts, and it wants to make Oz its new home.
You clench your jaw and swallow your screams as best you can. The fog enshrouding your sight feels denser, a purple light mingling with edges of the haze like the roots of a poisonous flower.
"Marr... tell Essme and... the others, there's..."
"Yeah? Where's the pain centred?"
"Whatever... hit us... there's a... something..." you reach down and gently tap your torso, just above your right hip, "crawling..."
You can't fully make out Marr shouting to the others on Oz's right, over the now much shallower, dulled sound of Oz's rumblings. You know that dragons have their own language - though dragontongue isn't a privilege you can claim to have - and so between that and the direct thoughts between the riders and their dragons, most of whatever is being said is lost to you.
Suddenly you feel Marr's grip on you tighten.
"We're going to the tent, okay?"
Your throat tightens, and with a venom you've rarely experienced you spit, "Why?! What's that mean?!"
His grip is firmer than yours - Marr has always been a big guy, as much muscle as fat - and in your current state any attempt to push away is futile. Your thoughts turn to Oz.
Oz, you... you okay...? What's... happening?
Her response takes a moment to reach you, and even in your mind her voice seems so much more fragile than it should be.
Yes, Rell... thank you. It still hurts, but... it's easier, I can... think clearer, thank you...
But...? How do we... fix it?
You can just about make out the shape of Oz's silhouette getting a little smaller, when her thoughts reach you with a quiet:
PICK ONE:
[] Saernaulinos can smell it, he's going to burn it out: Saernaulinos is Essme's dragon, and is famous among your generation for the deadly precision of his flame.
---- NOTE: This guarantees whatever's hurting Ozerilet dies,but there is a chance of additional harm to Ozerilet.
[] Anne has patched up dragons before, she'll be guided to hook it out: Anne is one of the non-riders of the party and a deft hand for patching up both humans and dragons.
---- NOTE: There is the lowest chance of serious harm to Ozerilet or of side effects from the creature, but it may be able to escape into the wilds.
[] I'm going to use my inner fire to boil it: Ozerilet can, like all dragons, use her inner fire to flood her body with heat.
---- NOTE: This guarantees whatever's hurting Ozerilet dies,but it's unclear what side effects killing it in this way might have.
The pain clouding your mind remains an unbreakable fortress, but worry surrounds it and bubbles from every side. Part of you wants to argue against the idea...
[Y/N] Write-In?
...but whether you can get the thoughts across clearly or not, you can sense the resolve in her mind. There is the sound of more rumbling and a sharp pain in your chest, and before you can hear or feel what happens the fog is cut through by an overpowering wave of darkness.
You are unconscious, and your dreams are filled with pain.
****
It's a dream I keep having.
It's a long, dark night. You don't recall the last time the sun rose - somehow, you know it hasn't risen in generations. You are wandering, the soft soil sinking between your toes, but no matter where you wander the landscape doesn't change.
Hello.
Your vision snaps to a strange figure, and despite the vast, overpowering golden light that pours forth from it and beyond it, you feel like it's always been there, watching you from the darkness.
Its eyes glow with a blue light, and with a gentle smile it reaches out a hand.
Who are you? you think, and its face and form begin to take a familiar shape.
PICK ONE -- RELL'S APPEARANCE:
[] A tall, well-built young man with dark skin, curly blonde hair, and soft grey eyes.
[] A short, stocky young woman with olive skin, dark braids, and snowy white eyes.
[] Write-In
Im partial to hooking it out, but.... not sure why it would be dangerous? like just put the rope under something sturdy before pulling on it and make sure people arent near it... or if they are they are armed.
Edit: [X] Anne has patched up dragons before, she'll be guided to hook it out: Anne is one of the non-riders of the party and a deft hand for patching up both humans and dragons.
---- NOTE: There is the lowest chance of serious harm to Ozerilet or of side effects from the creature, but it may be able to escape into the wilds.
[X] Anne has patched up dragons before, she'll be guided to hook it out
[X] A short, stocky young woman with olive skin, dark braids, and snowy white eyes.
I'm honestly imagining one of the girls from Otoyomegatari when I read the description, which is an absolute plus in my book because central asian girls in traditional clothing do something to me.
[X] Anne has patched up dragons before, she'll be guided to hook it out: Anne is one of the non-riders of the party and a deft hand for patching up both humans and dragons. [X] A tall, well-built young man with dark skin, curly blonde hair, and soft grey eyes.
Honestly, I was tempted to agree, but how bad could letting it run off -
... in retrospect, given the fact I just caught myself rationalizing my choice with "how bad could it be," I may have jinxed it now.
So in working on more of the setting of the quest, I figured there's a lot of areas where it needs fleshing out - regarding its ecologies and societies, mainly. If anyone has questions about the setting, please PM them to me. I can't promise I'll answer in detail (some surprises are good for a story! ^_^), but it's a good way for me to know what aspects of the setting raise questions for people.
[X] Anne has patched up dragons before, she'll be guided to hook it out: Anne is one of the non-riders of the party and a deft hand for patching up both humans and dragons. [X] A tall, well-built young man with dark skin, curly blonde hair, and soft grey eyes.
[X] Anne has patched up dragons before, she'll be guided to hook it out: Anne is one of the non-riders of the party and a deft hand for patching up both humans and dragons.
[5] Anne has patched up dragons before, she'll be guided to hook it out
[4] A tall, well-built young man with dark skin, curly blonde hair, and soft grey eyes.
Who are you?
Wordlessly, its face and form begin to take a familiar shape.
His hair forms into rich curls the colour of the sunrise, and his shape becomes athletic and muscular despite his youth - no more than late teens or early twenties. His golden skin shimmers into bronze, then softens to a rich brown. Layers of leather and furs weave into being across his body and soon he is dressed for a long journey.
Lastly the sapphire of his eyes dulls, then flares with a roiling grey - like fog over the seaside horizon.
You nod to Rell, reaching out a scaled claw and taking his hand. Your heart is supposed to be settled, yet another question enters your mind.
Will the sun rise soon?
Rell tilts his head, and firmly places his free hand against your snout. Your whiskers drift around and touch his face, and your heart sinks. Your stomach sinks. Your claws sink, and the deep loam of the earth rises with strength that no dragon can match.
Rell's smile fades as he remains standing, the earth he stands on holding still, as the endless night threatens to consume you entirely. He cries out for you and clings to your claw, then he reaches for your harness and tries to hold you up, but no matter how you struggle the earth will claim you.
The golden figure and the promise it holds has disappeared.
There's only the darkness, and the certainty that terrible things from a time long ago - from before the ideal of time was even a flicker in the oldest eyes - are active in the world.
The storm is hungry, and what can children do against it?
****
You blink away the darkness to the sensation of someone tapping you on the shoulder, and the sound of distant birdsong.
"Hey, Rell, morning! How are you feeling?"
Your eyes adjust to the light streaming into your tent, blinking them away, as you look up and see a concerned smile on the face of...
PICK ONE -- PARTY:
[] Marr
---- Marr is a big guy, and even the village elders are undecided on how much of his size is muscle and how much is heart; you were born on the same night and attached to the same clutch, and the common ground of "tall with curly hair" have led to more than a few trying to claim you're literal brothers. His dragon, Tornaulimet ("Tornau"), is a roughly 9 and a half meters long heavy-weight with copper-green scales and a lot of patience. She's famed among your generation for the great distances she's flown, even at such a young age.
[] Essme
---- Essme is short, stocky girl with eyes like ivory and a quiet focus that occasionally flares into a snowstorm when times are tough. You were born on the same night and attached to the same clutch, and she's always been quick to help you when figuring out the more technical aspects of dragon riding. Her dragon, Saernaulinos ("Saern"), is a lithe 6 and a half meters long light-weight with dark green scales. According to Ozeri he's got a wicked sense of humour. He's famed among your generation for the deadly precision of his firebreathing.
[] Anne
---- Anne is a veritable pine tree of a woman with an eye for detail and flowing dark hair. She's not a dragon rider - along with her husband Milo she was attached to the expedition as support, helping with packing and setting up tents, gathering supplies, preparing food, and mending wounds. Anne and Milo are inseparable, and together they have a lot of useful, practical skills.
You go to move, mumbling a quick "feeling better" in response when they put a firm hand against your chest. The gentle smell of rabbit stew fills your nose.
"You need rest, and food. Get your strength up."
The ache in your muscles wants you to do what they say. You sigh and tell them...
PICK TWO:
[] "...where are the others?"
[] "...what happened?"
[] "...no, I need to see Oz. I'll eat when I know she's okay!"
[] "..." Oz, can you hear me?
[X] "..." Oz, can you hear me? [X] "...where are the others?"
Part of me wants to go with the non-dragon-rider cause I think that could be interesting, but someone "quick to help" with some of the finer points of our shared practice definitely sounds good to have at our backs.
[X] "...what happened?"
[X] "..."Oz, can you hear me?
For me, it's a toss up between the dragon rider girl and the practical non-dragon rider. I suppose I went with Essme because she compliments Rell fairly well in that she could be an active help in any shinanigans we get into later and will be a a good partner when it comes to Rell's training. As for the questions, they seem to be the most direct to get to the heart of the situation.
[6] "..."Oz, can you hear me? [4] "...what happened?"
The hand against your chest has been toughened by the north, and eyes like snow cut you off from standing too tall. In theory, you're stronger than Essme, but there's an indescribable force to her that leaves you sitting.
...and your stomach is growling-
No.
You have to know. You can't eat until you know, so you close your eyes and focus Ozerilet in your mind's eye.
The darkness curls around you, inky blackness reaching out, when the ripple is answered - like a pebble into a pond, responded by someone on the other side of the pond dropping in their own pebble. It's a quiet ripple - restful breathing, the warmth in your chest after a good meal, a morning breeze echoing across your skin.
Oz... Oz, can you hear me?
...
The wait feels like forever, and your heart skips a beat.
The breeze can't be restful until you know.
...
Rell...?
You let go of the breath you had started to hold in, and the sound of distant birdsong and wind through the hillsides is overpowered by a deep, sluggish rumbling. You find the strength to put the bowl down and push past Essme despite her protests. As you emerge from the tent, you can see Saernaulinos standing watch over the camp, and-
Oz!
Her form against the early morning light of a storm now passed. She's still stirring back to life, and as she lifts her neck and turns to look at you through blue-grey eyes, the sunlight dances across her scales and takes on the colours of...
PICK TWO -- OZERILET'S APPEARANCE:
[] Burnished Copper
[] Autumn Leaves
[] a Lightning Flash
[] Fresh Snow
[] Glacier Ice
[] Roiling Stormclouds
[] Finely Cut Sapphires
[] the Light Before Sunrise
[] a Starfilled Night
[] Thick Tar
For a moment you find yourself back to your thirteenth spring, when Oz got sick with scalemites and you had to wait for the healers and wise women to let her out of the cavern. Your footsteps almost give out beneath you as you run to her, wrapping your arms around her neck. She shudders a little, and then leans forward.
I'm here Oz! I'm here-
You wince for a moment, a sharpness in your side. The pain is eased, just a little, as you feel a rhythmic stroking, backwards and forwards on the top of your head - her chin, resting there.
Yeah, she aches, and so you ache, Anne did a good job with the stitches, but… whatever it was, it's slowed my healing.
You step back, craning your neck slightly to look her in the eyes.
Are you going to be okay? What… what happened?
Oz leans back slightly, her claws scratching into the soil as she winces with each breath. She dwarfs you, yet for a moment - with the way the mountains on the horizon frame her, you almost get the impression of a wolf too small for its kill.
Anne got it out, and Saernaulinos insists he killed it, but…
Her snout wrinkles, and your tongue tingles with the memory of something bitter.
…I think part of it escaped, somehow. Saern and the others kept dodging my questions, and I didn't have the strength to keep asking, so… I went to sleep.
You smile and reach up to pat her neck, that was the right thing to do, even as something else is bothering you.
Oz, that was… wretched. Were you… were you feeling that the whole time we were traveling? Why didn't you tell me?
She shakes her head, gives a rather weak smile, and then curls up onto her front legs.
I can feel your hunger, Rell. I need to rest, and you need to eat.
…
Part of you wants to say something to such an abrupt non-answer, but your thought is interrupted as Saern turns to look at you - those sharp golden eyes, like a cat watching a rabbit - then past you, and then you feel a tap on the shoulder.
It's Essme, her patience for your needed space at the end of her tether.
"Eat your breakfast! Before the rabbits take offense at letting it get cold."
Your stomach rumbles to punctuate her point, and so despite the worries clouding your mind you take the bowl from her hands, sit down by your tent, and start shovelling it into your mouth in a way that your mother would've slapped you for.
****
The sun is still fresh in the sky as you finish the stew, the last chunks of soft meat and gravy scooped up with a piece of stale bean bread. It's not as good as your mother makes it - how could it be? - but it's spicy and filling and it goes down well. Even so, the thought of your mother reminds you to pray.
You close your eyes, picturing her face. The folds of her cheeks and the warmth of the smile they hold, dark skin and hair like the flickering of a campfire.
…Miss you, praying to the seeds carried on the wind, I'll come home soon.
You open your eyes to see Essme and the long dark braids that fall across her shoulders and the layers of her riding clothes. Unlike your relatively plain gear, hers have been decorated with intricate geometric stitchings - abstract patterns of red flowers, blue fish, and sharp grey-green gemstones. A farewell gift from her own mother.
She's looking at something along the mountainside, distant and small, when she stops to meet your gaze - those eyes like ivory, eyes like no one else's amidst any of your people. Part of you wonders if eyes like that must be common amongst the saltwater families - perhaps one day you'll get to travel there.
"Was it good?" she asks, and your subconscious saves you from making things awkward by breaking eye contact, to give a hearty nod.
"Thank you, it was wonderful, though…" your mind is clouded once more with the worries of last night. The morning breeze has settled, and your belly is full. You have to know.
"Oh?"
"...what happened, Essme?"
Her smile fades, and her eyes narrow. She glances down into her hands as her voice shakes, just a little.
"It was... horrible, like maggots or burning oil, like some sort of demon. Anne managed to latch on to it and dragged it from Ozeri's side, as it…" she sticks out her tongue as if by reflex and the colour fades a little from her face, "it was puckering and squirming, and... the stench, Rell, I wanted to throw up! Like rotting meat, like pus and blood, and..."
She hesitates, and you can tell from her eyes that it's brought up a bad memory. You have a guess or two what it might be.
"Like, like-"
Her voice catches in her throat, and you reach out to hold her hand even as your own chest tightens.
"...like bloodthroat?" you ask.
A wretched common ground.
She nods, then shakes her head, "...but it got away, Rell."
"...wh-what?"
"Once Anne took it out of the wound, Sae went to burn it and it… it tore itself in two. We killed part of it but it... some part of it leapt from the hook, dashed over the cliff and into the trees. It was so small, like some kind of slug, but it was gone in the moment!"
Essme looks out at and gestures at the camp, now empty besides you two and Ozerilet - Saernaulinos, you notice, stretches his wings and takes flight, arcing into the distance and circling around the area. Essme shakes her head, and lets out a small sigh.
"We tried searching for it but it... it had disappeared, even to dragon senses. Then Marr started talking about the thing you mentioned, something about chains in the ground? Since the storm was going to get worse, Qaddan asked me to stay behind and guard the camp while him, Aurtil, Marr, and Tornau set off before the storm."
"...what?! That was... that was hours ago! What if they…" your breath gets shorter, and a fiercer heat reaches up into your chest, "whoever attacked us nearly killed Oz! What is he thinking?! They've been gone most of the night, and they're not back yet?"
Qaddan is an experienced rider and the leader of the mission, and his dragon Aurtilamokh is a fearsome warrior, but… to fly into the beginnings of a storm, to face an unknown enemy? Even with two dragons that was a dangerous choice.
You shake your head, and gesture to the unattended cooking utensils at the centre of the camp.
"And what about Anne and Milo?"
Essme glances to her right, freeing her hand and… after giving it a moment, she gestures to an area of the hills across the valley and you and Oz had crossed on your way back.
"There's a village not far from here, to the east down the mountainside, maybe a few hours away. It's not part of the empire or owned by pactlords - we're not sure who they are, but Anne and Milo can handle themselves if needed. They figured it was a good place to gather information and resupply after the storm died down."
She gives her biggest smile and... it's really not helping.
Your body is largely recovered, but there's still some phantom pain lingering - and it'll take a while longer for Ozerilet's body to fully heal.
What will you do?
PICK ONE:
[] Rest, and wait at least a few more hours for the others to return
---- NOTE: If this option is picked, please also choose a back-up option - if the others don't come back soon, you will be forced to take action anyway. [] Head down the mountain into the unknown village, to make sure Anne and Milo are okay
---- NOTE: If you set off on foot, the journey will take several hours. On the other hand, taking a dragon into a village unaligned with any of the three dragon riding nations runs the risk of scaring the locals or starting a fight. [] Set off to re-investigate the area of the skirmish and make sure the other dragons and their riders are okay
---- NOTE: If you set off on foot to find the other dragons and their riders, the journey will easily take you a day if not longer and it will be difficult to receive help if things go wrong.
PICK ANY NUMBER OF ALLIES -- who should join you?:
[] Ozerilet
---- NOTE: If Ozerilet comes with you to the area of the skirmish, she will fly you - though this will be a painful experience for her. If Ozerilet doesn't join you while you leave the camp, it will give her more time to rest. [] Essme
[] Saernaulinos
---- NOTE: Requires Ozerilet and/or Essme - it would be taboo to travel alone with another dragon, and on a more practical level you have no way to communicate with Saernaulinos without either Oz or Essme as a go-between.
That was a pretty cool update. Many plot hooks are now being woven together. I have sneaking suspicion that having a partial demon nearby a village full of peasants(that are presumably relatively weak since they haven't joined any of the major factions) will cause disaster. Also nice to know that this world is legitimately high fantasy and not fantastical creatures in a mostly normal world(I'd be fine with either just the confirmation is nice.)
[X] a Starfilled Night
I feel like this is an interesting color choice since it has wiggle room into what it means. Is she shiny black? Or does she legitimately have white specks on her scale? Don't particularly care for specific color choices though. Just the one that immediately caught my eye.
[X] Head down the mountain into the unknown village, to make sure Anne and Milo are okay
I figure this might divert the disaster of that demon that ran off. Who will feed us otherwise?
Also, it allows us to be doing something while waiting for the 'main' plot to progress. As for the other options, the first feels like it not only doesn't give us much to do in character but is also somewhat uninspiring for the author.
"What is your choice", the author asks.
"Take a nap", says the questors.
The second option just seems like a kinda terrible idea. Oz is blatantly injured and if two strong dragons can't beat whatever is out there then I doubt two dragons and an injured one will make much of a difference. So, I say we partake in a low-stress activity(demon hunting is always easy, right) while things progress.
[X] Essme
Oz needs to sleep and demon hunting without any back isn't a grand idea. Plus we should definitely at least leave Saernaulinos to make certain that the camp doesn't get ambushed or anything while Oz isn't capable of doing much(and would be presumably passed out.) Plus, gives us a chance to interact with Essme and see more of her character/skills. Should be fun... unless we die.
Oh, final note: if we do go to the skirmish site I say we take all available allies as I imagine things are either completely fine or completely abysmal.
By the way, how strong are dragons in this world compared to other beings? Are they considered a true force multiplier or are they just considered decent beasts of war(from the Empire's perspective.)
By the way, how strong are dragons in this world compared to other beings? Are they considered a true force multiplier or are they just considered decent beasts of war(from the Empire's perspective.)
And dragons with riders are consistently a massive force multiplier, depending on the environment they're fighting in (generally, dragons are most effective against densely packed field troops or wooden fortifications and settlements, as well as heavy ground cavalry; and less effective in cavernous or swampy environments or against scouting infantry and massed archers). There are a number of "primordial kinds" in different parts of the world who are potentially more dangerous than dragons under certain circumstances or can do things dragons can't, but as far as a balance of raw physical threat and informational/scouting advantage there's not much that can take them on.
The Heritage Clan (and its member clans - Icewater; Saltwater; Lakewater; Riverwater; Earthwater; and Cloudwater) for example is a relatively sparce, low-tech society spread over a wide area but their long history of dragon riding has been enough to prevent successful large-scale incursions even from larger nations with dragon riders of their own (see also: the Pactlord crusades over the centuries that did little more than ruin the reputation of some noble families and poisoned long term political/cultural ties and goodwill).
